Chapter 25: Editor

– “I’m planning to hire a YouTube editor.”

– “Since matters involving revenue are sensitive, I’ll have to meet directly with the selected person to discuss and negotiate. If you’re interested, please send your application to my email.”

Click, click.

– “Since matters involving revenue are…”

– “I’ll have to meet directly to negotiate.”

Scrrreech.

– “I’ll have to meet directly…”

Click.

– “I’ll have to meet directly.”

Click.

– “I’ll have to meet…”

The room is dark.

Every window is covered with blackout curtains, leaving no clue whether it’s day or night.

In the dimly lit room, a woman sits at her computer, engrossed in her work.

The voice from the screen begins to repeat, manipulated by her actions.

The words spoken in a 20-second clip are shortened to 10 seconds, then to 5 seconds, as the woman continuously clicks her mouse.

She is focused on replaying a specific part of Mollru’s voice, as though she has a clear purpose for doing so.

Once she’s reduced the clip to five seconds, a satisfied smile crosses her face, and she lets go of the mouse.

“Meet directly…” she murmurs, exhaling deeply as she leans back.

How long had she been sitting there? Her body aches, stiff from hours in the same position. She can’t even recall when she started.

As usual, she stretches, trying to shake off the soreness, before turning her attention to her email inbox.

The “Sent Mail” folder.

Her eyes land on an email she’d sent before Mollru had even announced the hiring process—a message written with excitement and anticipation.

She double-checks the email she sent, ensuring everything was perfect.

Video quality?

Check.

Expressions of fandom?

Check.

Professional credentials?

Check.

She had sent the email exactly as planned, yet a gnawing sense of unease lingered.

Should she send another email with an additional video? She had just finished editing footage from Mollru’s recent gameplay of *The Driving* yesterday.

No. She might come off as desperate.

Mollru seemed to prefer things clean and concise. Pestering her with multiple emails might have the opposite effect.

Still, if Mollru had been the type to respond to persistence, she wouldn’t have hesitated to crawl at her feet if it meant success.

Crunch.

“What if I’m not chosen?”

Nervousness creeping in, she began biting her nails—a habit of hers. Closing her email, she switched over to another website.

The Eowar Gallery.

This mysterious community, now heavily centered around discussions about Mollru, had become a site she visited daily.

“Mollru is hiring an editor?”

ᄋᄋ: “She finally listened to us. Please, just start a YouTube channel and upload Eowar content. I need something to watch during breaks.”

ᄂᄋᄋ: “Pretty sure she reads this gallery. She seems to know most of the stuff we post. Did you see her reactions during the drunk stream? She’s aware of all our discussions.”

ᄂᄋᄋ: “Wait, is Mollru one of us?”

“How many subs will Mollru’s YouTube channel get?”

ᄋᄋ: “No one with her vibe has ever done this, so it’s hard to guess. Could she hit 100K?”

ᄂᄋᄋ: “100K? Be realistic. Livestreaming and YouTube are totally different worlds.”

Loo: “Still, with her potential, she’ll probably get a ton of applicants. Success is practically guaranteed if she starts.”

The woman frowned as she scrolled through the comments.

There were plenty of opinions about how competitive the hiring process would be.

Many users on the gallery seemed to agree, as the post had garnered numerous likes.

The woman agreed with the sentiment but refrained from clicking “like.”

The more applicants there were, the further her ideal outcome drifted out of reach.

It wasn’t that she lacked confidence in her abilities.

In fact, she was brimming with confidence.

If the decision came down to editing skills alone, she was certain she wouldn’t lose.

Her concerns lay elsewhere.

Editing skills, after all, tend to look good enough to most people once they reach a certain level.

While she didn’t think Mollru’s eyes were so untrained as to not notice her superior skills… there was always a chance.

What if Mollru overlooked her amidst the crowd?

What if someone else was chosen as the editor instead of her?

She had been the first to appreciate Mollru.

She was the first to notice Mollru’s unique charm.

She was the only one who knew everything about Mollru, from her tendency to fall silent when flustered, to the subtle chewing sounds she made while queuing in matches, to how many times she gulped when drinking water.

She had subscribed first, chatted first, and even promoted Mollru in the community…

Her anxiety reached its peak.

That’s when an irritating post caught her eye.

“What’s so great about Mollru that you all worship her? Lol.”

“Her lame jokes are never funny, her streams are just her doing whatever she wants without caring about her viewers, and then she logs off. You people are such sheep.”

“This freaking jerk…”

Her hands instinctively moved to the keyboard, but she stopped herself and took a deep breath to calm down.

She had almost unleashed a string of curses but reminded herself of her position.

She used the same username across both Switch and the Eowar Gallery, making her easily identifiable as Mollru’s manager.

Acting rashly could lead to unnecessary drama, which would only burden Mollru.

But she couldn’t just ignore such a rude comment.

Resolving to stay as composed as possible, she wrote a reply:

**Rain**: “If you don’t like it, don’t watch. Lol.”

That should suffice.

It was blunt but aligned with the average tone of the gallery.

As she saw the likes trickle in on her comment, a faint smile formed on her lips, easing her earlier frustration.

*Ping!*

A notification popped up at the top of her screen, catching her attention.

She clicked it open to find a new email.

New Mail (1)

Sender: Mollru

An email. From Mollru.

Her eyes widened in shock as she stared at the notification.

She was about to let out a cheer but stopped herself, her gaze darting nervously.

Although the awaited news had arrived, there was no telling whether it would bring joy or disappointment.

It could just as easily be an email that said, *”Unfortunately, we cannot proceed with you.”*

If it were anyone else, she might dismiss such a possibility, but she knew Mollru well enough to expect anything.

Her body stiffened with tension as her trembling hands moved the mouse.

“Why are there so many…”

I clicked my tongue at the sight of my flooded inbox.

It was filled with countless emails, all with the subject line, *[Editor Application]*.

They’d poured in after my broadcast yesterday.

I couldn’t believe how many people were applying for this. What was so special about me?

I didn’t think I, as a streamer, had such compelling content to offer.

But it seems those who specialize in editing think differently.

Maybe… I’m a bit of a big deal?

*Hem hem.*

I cleared my throat softly to refocus my thoughts.

Overconfidence is always a no-go.

These people are probably fans of mine who applied out of sheer enthusiasm.

Even so, the idea that so many people applied purely out of admiration for me was heartwarming.

I began reading the applications one by one.

There were applications filled with praise for me, as well as ones claiming to have analyzed me from head to toe and brimming with confidence about growing my YouTube channel.

A variety of emails flooded my inbox.

This was the first time since starting my stream that I would be working with a business partner.

Choosing someone for such an important role demanded caution.

With that in mind, I evaluated each applicant with my own strict criteria.

The key factor was editing skill.

It wasn’t about flashy effects or subtitles.

Those were just differences in editing style, not something that could determine quality.

What’s the most critical aspect of an editor’s role?

How well they can “cook” the raw footage that is me.

In other words, how captivating and appealing is the video centered around me?

From that perspective, all the applicants I had reviewed so far were disqualified.

The videos were entertaining.

The editing was clean and well-executed.

However, these videos could have featured anyone in my place without much difference.

They lacked the distinct quality that screamed, “This is Mollru!”

I wanted videos that showcased the unique essence of my streams—something undeniably “Mollru.”

And then, I found it.

Just one video.

I opened the earliest application I had received, one that arrived even before I officially announced the position.

“The Swordsman is a top-tier agent.””The waterfall elders love the most is—”

It was the most “Mollru-esque” video I had seen.

While it predominantly showcased impressive *Eowar* gameplay, the elements of entertainment embedded within stood out.

I especially loved how it highlighted my best comedic moments.

Perhaps it was just my imagination, but I felt like the person editing this video genuinely enjoyed the process.

The decision was made.

After careful and meticulous consideration, I had chosen the editor.

I opened the application from **Rain** once more.

“From the first moment, I knew this was it. Falling in love at first sight must feel like this…”

Was this excessive enthusiasm driving their work?

It was a little overwhelming, as they seemed to like me *a bit* too much.

But… oh well. It should be fine.

I sent a reply letting them know I wanted to hire them as my editor.